


Morning Wood

by charis2770



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Injury Recovery, Liu Feilong is a very good nurse, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yoh was by far the most badly injured of all of them during the daring rescue of he and Feilong from the clutches of men he had once considered family. That's behind them now, and they can relax for the first time in years. Yoh just has to get better first...</p><p>Feilong helps.</p><p>Some of you may recall how helpful Feilong can be when he tries. </p><p>(This work is part of the Finding Vengeance series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Wood

Asami’s personal physician has all the good drugs. Yoh sleeps for a long time. He’s exhausted, he’s lost a lot of blood, been stabbed and shot, and had his ear hacked off and sent to Feilong in a box. And his insides ache and burn deep within his body. His ear has been reattached. Yamato says he gives it about a 75% chance of remaining viable. Well, Yoh’s never considered himself much to look at anyway. His hand is neatly bandaged and so is his torso from his waist to just under his nipples. Thankfully, he’d already been given the good drugs before the doctor had examined him…internally. The thought of the man’s fingers sliding into him after what they’d made Feilong do hadn’t been appealing at all. He’s vaguely aware that he’s been told the tearing isn’t severe, and didn’t require stitching. There’s an ointment he’s supposed to apply three times a day that will relieve pain and help speed healing, but he’s supposed to avoid penetration for a few weeks. Not that his body is going to be up to anything strenuous for a while anyway. 

They’ll take the IV out in a day or so, and leave him a bottle of pain medication that he’s unlikely to take. He doesn’t really like how it makes him feel. He’s able to let himself enjoy the oblivion provided by whatever they’re giving him through the IV because he doesn’t have much choice in the matter, and because he really does ache abominably. Even his hair hurts. He only vaguely remembers the others returning home, and someone….Feilong…holding his hand while his gunshot wound was cleaned and dressed. He doesn’t really remember much about the next day too. He floats in and out of consciousness, moaning softly and tossing fitfully when the drugs start to wear off, and then sliding back into oblivion when the pump refreshes his dose. 

He’s better by the next day, a little. He’s still in pain, but the doctor is able to dial back his dosage and he begins to feel a little more himself. It’s going to be strange, he thinks, to go through his days NOT looking over his shoulder all the time, with Baishe out of the picture. With the highest-ranking triad members dead and Feilong cutting ties, the organization will dry up and drift apart like chaff on a breeze. Asami’s men have already been dispatched to bring Tao here, at the boy’s request.  Not that men like Asami and Feilong won’t always have enemies, but he doesn’t think any of the others are actively plotting to kill either of them. All the Russian seems to do is try to annoy Feilong enough to want to spank him like the spoiled little brat he is, and while Yoh might pay to see it, he’s not worried about Arbatov.

That night he falls asleep rather than being rendered unconscious with narcotics. 

He has the most erotic dream. They are back at the hot springs in the woods at the retreat they’d visited a few months ago. It is night time, and the soft chirps and clicks of the crickets are all he can hear. The water, with its heavy mineral content, is more buoyant than normal water, and he floats suspended in the middle of the pool. It is almost like flying, the water gently warm and soft against his skin, the stars overhead seeming somehow also to be all around him. The only thing that connects him to the earthly realm at all is his lover. Feilong floats under the water.  In dreams, you don’t need to breathe. His hair drifts around Yoh’s thighs like waterweed spun from softest silk, the tiny prick of his sharp nails in his skin makes Yoh’s flesh ripple with goosebumps, and his hot, wet mouth sucks sweetly, coaxingly on his cock. His balls feel full and heavy between his thighs. Somehow it seems the water and Feilong’s touch begin to heal him, washing away the aches and pains of his wounds. He gasps and his body arches, Feilong’s throat opening to accept him, sucking harder, his wicked tongue licking and stroking all along Yoh’s length as he pleasures him with that clever mouth.

He gasps again and opens his eyes. The chirping of crickets is replaced by the soft beep of his heart monitor, the warm water replaced by warm blankets. Feilong’s mouth, though…remains Feilong’s mouth. His mouth curls in a filthy little smirk as best he can with that mouth full of Yoh’s straining erection. Shocked and slightly scandalized, Yoh struggles to sit up and push Feilong back and manages to do neither. His wicked lover’s nails dig carefully into the soft skin of his inner thighs in warning. Feilong lets Yoh’s cock pop free from his mouth and he grins, his dark eyes sparkling.

“What do you think you’re doing?” hisses Yoh.

“I should think that was obvious,” replies Feilong mildly, darting the tip of his tongue out to lick up a welling drop of precome from the tip of Yoh’s cock. 

“You choose NOW to become literal?” he asks incredulously. Feilong shrugs modestly.

“Why are you doing it?” he rephrases with ill grace.

“Because I want to.”

“So help me, Feilong. It may be weeks before I’m strong enough and then several MORE weeks before your body can tolerate it, but I’ve got a damned fine memory and I will be happy to make you pay for being a brat.”

Feilong pouts at him and licks the tip of his cock again, which makes him groan despite his best efforts to conceal his reaction. 

“I heard you,” says Feilong abruptly, his face going serious. “You made a sound in your sleep, so I came over to see if you were all right and I saw…this.” He looks down at Yoh’s erection. “We may not be able to have sex for a while, but when I saw your need….I…Yoh. They nearly had us, both of us.”

“I’m sorry that I failed you, Feilong-Sama,” whispers Yoh miserably, finally putting into words the burden of guilt he’s carried around since he saw Feilong come through the door of that warehouse, alone, because he’d been sloppy and allowed himself to be taken.

“Never,” whispers Feilong fiercely. “You’ve NEVER failed me. Nobody can see a tranq dart coming from 50 yards away in a crowded market! You…you helped me…keep my head in the game…stay focused. My impulse was to refuse to do ANYthing they wanted…and…and I couldn’t. I couldn’t  DO it, understand?” His fathomless dark eyes shine with unshed tears. “Without you there, they’d have broken me, Yoh. They almost did anyway, but my courage came from you. You believed in me. You and Akihito and Tao…are the only people who’ve ever had faith in me.”

Yoh stares down at his employer, his lover, the man who owns him heart and soul and then gives himself right back to Yoh in return, his lips parted in shock. Feilong doesn’t do heartfelt confessions to him. 

“I’ve always believed in you, Feilong-sama,” whispers Yoh.

“Good,” purrs Feilong. “Now lie back and let me show you my…appreciation.” And he turns back to his work, his tongue licking, catlike, at Yoh’s testicles, his long, elegant fingers still wrapped firmly around his cock. He obviously considers the matter resolved, but You is less sanguine. Looking down the length of his own body and past the shining, Raven’s wing black of Feilong’s bent head, he can see the livid black weals the sjambok left on his lover’s body, at least the two or three marks he bears highest across his back that are visible from this angle.

“No! St….hah…stop that at once! You haven’t re…ah fuck…recovered enough for this sort of…of….shit, Feilong!”

Feilong pulls back again, licking the shine of his spit and Yoh’s precome off his beautiful, reddened lips, which pout at him.

“I am  trying, ” he says with affronted dignity, “to suck your brains out through your cock, you ungrateful wretch. Now, kindly shut up and let me do it! You’re being tiresome!”

“But you’re still hurt,” exclaims Yoh hotly, considering whether he should shove Feilong off with his foot or just….just…ju….oh, oh  fuck,  he’s doing that thing with his tongue where he…and Yoh’s cock twitches and the velvety softness of the inside of Feilong’s mouth is just…oh. His eyelids flutter closed and a deep groan is coaxed from his chest. Feilong doesn’t fight fair.

“You talk too much. I’m almost certain sucking your cock doesn’t require me to lie on my back even a little bit. In fact, it would be cruel of you to refuse to let me continue at this point, because those delightful sounds you’re making do a splendid job of taking my mind off the ache. So be a good boy and take what’s coming to you, hmm? Besides…” His lips slowly curl into a positively filthy smirk. “It’s time for your  medicine.”  He holds up the small tube of salve meant to be applied 3 times a day to….Oh fuck. Because the initial sharp, awful pain of being torn open has already passed and the cream, supplied by Asami’s secret witch herbalist, is remarkably soothing and…

Yoh’s eyes roll back in his skull. Feilong has applied a stripe of the stuff to his finger and touches his fingertip to the swollen pucker of Yoh’s asshole with infinite gentleness. He brushes the pad of his finger, coated with salve, around the little hole as soft as a sigh. Yoh whimpers and his hips roll, quite without his permission.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” whispers Feilong.

“Guh,” says Yoh. 

Smiling, Feilong lowers his head again, taking Yoh’s erection into his mouth. The flat of his tongue strokes back and forth over the sensitive knot of skin under the glans while he sucks, steadily and softly. His finger strokes Yoh’s wounded hole tenderly, then, after almost enough time has passed for Yoh to go quite insane, he very carefully begins to work it inside. Yoh cries out and his body arches. 

“Shh,” whispers Feilong. “Easy, love. It will only take a moment…”

“No,” gasps Yoh, for Feilong has quite mistaken the reason for his reaction. He’s been applying the stuff himself, gingerly and as quickly as possible, partly because he’s very, very sore and partly because it just feels awkward and embarrassing. He aches inside, so much that it seems the deep, invasive soreness will be with him forever, has become part and parcel of his being. At least the sharp sting and burn of being torn has gotten much better, so much so that the medication isn’t difficult to apply by this the third day.

Having Feilong apply it for him is not just a new ballgame, it is a new ballgame in a different galaxy altogether. The gentle touching and stroking on the sensitive, swollen tissues of the outside of his anus had not felt bad at all, for Feilong is being very careful. But when his finger slowly slides inside, Yoh’s brain goes into orbit. He’s very sore. Oh, he is. But Yoh likes certain kinds of pain quite a lot, especially those inflicted by his inventive, breathtaking lover. Without the eye-watering burn of torn flesh, Feilong’s finger working the salve inside the soreness of his hole is a bit like being fingered after being fucked good and hard, except multiplied. He couldn’t tolerate it at all if Feilong weren’t being so careful. Done too quickly or carelessly, this would be nothing but pain. Done with the care and gentleness Feilong is showing now, combined with the deep, tender ache of his insides, it drives Yoh wild.

“No? What, no?” asks Feilong, going very still and then beginning to remove his finger. “I’m sorry…”

“Oh fuck, don’t stop,” cries Yoh breathlessly. Feilong freezes again. One eyebrow arches interestedly. His finger ceases its withdrawal and slowly presses deep inside, and his worried frown turns into a wicked, delighted grin.

“Dirty boy,” he breathes. Yoh makes an inarticulate noise of wholehearted agreement. Then the tip of Feilong’s finger zeroes in on his prostate and he digs his heels into the mattress and moans helplessly. His cock is enveloped in the warm suction of Feilong’s mouth while Feilong carefully, tenderly rubs and strokes and rhythmically presses and plays with his sweet spot. Yoh’s fingers curl into the bedding, gripping tightly. Feilong hums softly and he lets out a choked plea, although he has no idea what FOR. It maddens him that he is so injured that he can only lie here helpless and be tended, but he thinks maybe…just possibly…he could get used to this particular sort of tending. Even if it’s not going to take him very long to…to…oh gods, Feilong’s really good at this. Panting, Yoh lifts his head so he can watch. Fuck, but he is beautiful. His porcelain skin looks so rare, so fragile. The thick lace of his black eyelashes against his fair cheek as he closes his eyes and concentrates and bringing Yoh pleasure looks as fine as rare silk thread. His hair slides over Yoh’s thighs like a thick sheet of inky satin, warm and shining and soft. The fineness of his wide, clear brow, his long, straight nose and high cheekbones have always lent an aristocratic air to Feilong’s features. The contrast of that noble beauty against the way his red lips are stretched obscenely around Yoh’s cock is both shocking and filthy in a decadent way. His fingers are shaking when he reaches down to brush them gently over Fei’s hair, his forehead, his nose and cheeks and to smooth his finely arched black brows. Feilong’s lashes lift and he rolls his eyes up to look into Yoh’s face. His nose wrinkles just a little as he does his best to grin fondly around a mouth full of Yoh’s quivering erection. He sucks as much of it down his throat as he can without gagging and moans softly and encouragingly. 

“I’m…ngh…I’m….oh. Soon,” whispers Yoh. “Oh Feilong. S-so good. Are you ready?”

Feilong nods and lets out an eager whine through his nose. Yoh’s hands go to all that luxurious fall of hair, fingers tangling, and he makes fists of his hands, pulling just enough, the way Feilong likes. He shouts when he comes, his cock pulsing in Feilong’s mouth, seed spurting down his throat as Feilong swallows him down and purrs. 

They can’t really hold each other close very effectively. Yoh cannot have any weight on his gunshot wound, and Feilong cannot lie on his back, so they end up side by side, Feilong on his belly and propped on one elbow with his head resting on his arm, Yoh flat on his back and gasping a little as his pounding heart gradually slows, both their heads turned towards one another, grinning foolishly.

“Turnabout will be fair play soon enough,” says Yoh as severely as he can manage. “I may not be able to flex my stomach muscles, and you may not be able to lie down, but in a few more days I will make you stand right there beside this bed and fuck my mouth while I work a vibrator in your ass until you beg for mercy.”

“Won’t that be nice,” says Feilong, not sounding a bit worried. He picks up the tube of salve and looks at it thoughtfully. One eyebrow arches and his eyes sparkle when he then looks innocently at Yoh.

“Three times a day, is it?” he asks curiously. 

“Yes.”

“Mm. For how many days, did the doctor say? Ten days?”

“Y….yes.”

“Well won’t that be interesting,” says Feilong happily.

“You’re terrible!”

Feilong smiles contentedly and pats him sympathetically on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, lover. I’ll take  good  care of you.”

“Fuck.”


End file.
